Rhaegar's face tensed the moment he recognized the figure being dragged onto the arena floor—the lycan slave he had not managed to win during the gambling night.
Shackled in heavy chains, the lycan moved stiffly, his head lowered, his shoulders slumped as though the fight had already been beaten out of him. The spectating crowd murmured, their curiosity piqued by this unusual spectacle. But for the lycan king, it was something far more visceral—an insult, laid bare for all to see.
Lorelai's heart ached as she watched him, knowing precisely what this meant.
'It was all just a devious plan to humiliate him,' she thought bitterly. 'To show him that no matter how strong he thinks he is, there will always be someone stronger—and in their eyes, that someone will be human.'
